The more I get to know you and spend time with you, the more you grow on me. Happy first year, baby, you mean so much to me.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Special Day
It was a year ago that I over-the-moon happily got involved with a bear named Drew. Since then it has been an adventure to say the least.
it probably doesn't come as a surprise but i love the little quirks about you, the things you do that seem natural to you but that make my heart laugh endlessly every time i recall them, such as your makeshift snuggie that you created here.
i used to be able to peak at you secretly through this shelf but alas my cover's been blown... i can no longer claim to be sneaky P. but here's one of my favorite glimpses, one of your pebbly toes Huhuhu...
i like traveling with you a lot, whether it's out of the city like boston and cape may, new jersey for tofu soup and long island for a wedding... or within the city on LES streets -- i like walking with you, being outside with you, and slowly i'm starting to like being under the sun with you, too. this 70 degree day in boston was perfect!
but i also like being in bed with you... :) i am P after all and Ps have a weak spot for beds.
i'm really very lucky to be with such a smart Bear whose brain grows incrementally bigger and bigger... all thanks to his beary big appetite for Smarties!
sometimes your Bear brain can get rather smart-alecky...ahem, like this instance when you decided that enough was enough and i wasn't to get away anymore with double standards in webcamming! since then i'd like to sheepishly point out that i've peeled off the ghetto post-it shield, and shown myself in at least a couple webcamming sessions. please give your P. a pat on the back ^^
looking back at our PB&J days, i'm really glad that you tolerated so many of them... but it's safe to say that we've evolved past PB&Js onto other varieties of food. :) Oh, a sidenote: this picture is from a time when your M&M jar was full! what a change it's been through since. now there's only 1/4 left :P
here we are at Cape May. you can't see my face but it is beaming. and it's because my mind was thinking:
yep, and i won't ever feel anything but lucky about being with you. and well actually, there's something that you should probably know... it is that, over a year ago, on the oregon coast, i had already wished with all my heart that you'd see what i knew then -- that we're meant to be.
this was about a month before we started dating. you were gone for what seemed like the longest stretch in asia. at the time, i didn't know if we would actually ever get to dating, i didn't know how we'd be once saw each other after winter break, or if i'd ever become someone significant to you. in truth i had idea what to expect. but somehow, it just felt so right to refer to you as mine.
The more I get to know you and spend time with you, the more you grow on me. Happy first year, baby, you mean so much to me.
The more I get to know you and spend time with you, the more you grow on me. Happy first year, baby, you mean so much to me.
Camus
Lately I've been wondering what it is that's indestructible in me, if there is any such thing at all. No matter where I am in my walk with God, I always still pray for my faith in him to be unbreakable. A while back I determined that if I were to ever become a writer of some sort, it should only be with the goal of producing material that glorifies him and helps people understand why they need him.
For me, the idea of needing someone always scared me on some level or another. As if without that person, I am less complete. I could admit that I was fond of them, that I respected and loved them, but I'd shy back from saying to them and to myself that I needed them. I would decide more often than not that I didn't. To me, being strong meant being self sustaining.
This was the opposite with God. The ultimate purpose of my relationship with him was to learn to need him more; my trust in him was measured by how much more I depended on him than on myself. In the case of faith, I aspired to understand that I was incomplete without him. This was not being weak; it was what it meant to be a strong believer. And in this I found relief. Because I could finally let myself want, so badly, to need someone, to need God without feeling like my desperation for closeness would repel him as it would others.
But for a while now I've been trying to acknowledge that there are people, aside from my family, who I do need in my life, and not only have I admitted this to myself but I've also started to embrace it.
Although a part of me might still always wish that others will need me more than I need them (I think this is the part of me that wants so badly to matter, and that foolishly believes that the more I am needed, the less likely I'll be abandoned), the truth is that to need someone is to be in a state of humility.
It is saying, I cannot be better on my own: I am a better person because of you. Without you, my life will be significantly missing something. Without you, I will not learn as much about others, the world and myself. I will not see my faults as clearly, and I will lack your wisdom in overcoming them. It is because of you that I can reach new heights of happiness. It is because of you that I am led beyond my own ideas. My need for you -- it's there, everpresent, perpetually reaching out to you. And perhaps it's the very thing that's indestructible in me.
For me, the idea of needing someone always scared me on some level or another. As if without that person, I am less complete. I could admit that I was fond of them, that I respected and loved them, but I'd shy back from saying to them and to myself that I needed them. I would decide more often than not that I didn't. To me, being strong meant being self sustaining.
This was the opposite with God. The ultimate purpose of my relationship with him was to learn to need him more; my trust in him was measured by how much more I depended on him than on myself. In the case of faith, I aspired to understand that I was incomplete without him. This was not being weak; it was what it meant to be a strong believer. And in this I found relief. Because I could finally let myself want, so badly, to need someone, to need God without feeling like my desperation for closeness would repel him as it would others.
But for a while now I've been trying to acknowledge that there are people, aside from my family, who I do need in my life, and not only have I admitted this to myself but I've also started to embrace it.
Although a part of me might still always wish that others will need me more than I need them (I think this is the part of me that wants so badly to matter, and that foolishly believes that the more I am needed, the less likely I'll be abandoned), the truth is that to need someone is to be in a state of humility.
It is saying, I cannot be better on my own: I am a better person because of you. Without you, my life will be significantly missing something. Without you, I will not learn as much about others, the world and myself. I will not see my faults as clearly, and I will lack your wisdom in overcoming them. It is because of you that I can reach new heights of happiness. It is because of you that I am led beyond my own ideas. My need for you -- it's there, everpresent, perpetually reaching out to you. And perhaps it's the very thing that's indestructible in me.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
NPR
“Nobody tells this to people who are beginners, I wish someone told me. All of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap. For the first couple years you make stuff, it’s just not that good. It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you. A lot of people never get past this phase, they quit. Most people I know who do interesting, creative work went through years of this. We know our work doesn’t have this special thing that we want it to have. We all go through this. And if you are just starting out or you are still in this phase, you gotta know its normal and the most important thing you can do is do a lot of work. Put yourself on a deadline so that every week you will finish one story. It is only by going through a volume of work that you will close that gap, and your work will be as good as your ambitions. And I took longer to figure out how to do this than anyone I’ve ever met. It’s gonna take awhile. It’s normal to take awhile. You’ve just gotta fight your way through."
-Ira Glass
Since for some reason I can't do links right now, please go here for Ira's manifesto. And thanks to J. Chia for bringing my attention to This American Life.
http://transom.org/?p=6978
-Ira Glass
Since for some reason I can't do links right now, please go here for Ira's manifesto. And thanks to J. Chia for bringing my attention to This American Life.
http://transom.org/?p=6978
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
We are matching shoe for shoe
We like to putter around our backyard in our old man shoes. We like to sip warm green tea. Grandpa 'n me. :)
A.N.Jell
"The management company of the idol group A.N.JELL insisted on adding a new singer to the group as the lead vocal, Tae Kyung's voice was hurting. However,the new member, Mi Nam, had to go to the States to repair a botched eye job just before signing the contract. His agent came up with the idea of having his twin sister, Mi Nyu,to stand in for him and pretend that she was her brother. The two of them grew up in an orphanage and Mi Nyu, who was all set to become a nun, agreed to this charade as she didn't want to spoil her brother's chance of fame which would make it easier to look for their mother..."
JGS is the one with the intensely manly frown.
This song by him has been on replay nonstop: Without Words
It's spellbinding.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Bright side
My goal is to perfect this dancing sequence with my gramps. Tomorrow we will boogie on down.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Currently reading
"If you know Starkfield, Massachusetts, you know the post-office. If you know the post-office you must have seen Ethan Frome drive up to it, drop the reins on his hollow-backed bay and drag himself across the brick pavement to the white colonnade: and you must have asked who he was."
Ever since I finished The Age of Innocence a couple years ago (which I plan to reread), I've been meaning to start on The House of Mirth. But for some reason I haven't spotted it in any of the bookstores here, so I'm going ahead with Ethan Frome. So far I've been surprised by Wharton's prose here, which is deliberately simple, since this is a sharply etched portrait of the simple folks in a 19th century New England village. The sentences are measured and haunting, and at certain points, even sparse. They also go hand-in-hand with the mute, melancholy landscape of Starkfield (even the name of the town suggests the town's character).
The Age of Innocence, on the other hand, wasn't set in a remote village, so naturally its language should be different compared to that in Ethan Frome. In Innocence, Wharton contemplates Old New York: the truly old and established hierarchy in that vanished social era. I remember being wowed by her elaborate descriptions of the stage handling of social habits and rituals in upper-middle-class New York society (the proper time for after-dinner calls, the proper liquids to serve the guests, the gardenia in the lapel, etc). And yet none of these details seemed frivolous, either. They all contributed to the world of the novel.
Anyway, hopefully I'll finish Ethan Frome soon. I'll probably post more excerpts from it too.
Ever since I finished The Age of Innocence a couple years ago (which I plan to reread), I've been meaning to start on The House of Mirth. But for some reason I haven't spotted it in any of the bookstores here, so I'm going ahead with Ethan Frome. So far I've been surprised by Wharton's prose here, which is deliberately simple, since this is a sharply etched portrait of the simple folks in a 19th century New England village. The sentences are measured and haunting, and at certain points, even sparse. They also go hand-in-hand with the mute, melancholy landscape of Starkfield (even the name of the town suggests the town's character).
The Age of Innocence, on the other hand, wasn't set in a remote village, so naturally its language should be different compared to that in Ethan Frome. In Innocence, Wharton contemplates Old New York: the truly old and established hierarchy in that vanished social era. I remember being wowed by her elaborate descriptions of the stage handling of social habits and rituals in upper-middle-class New York society (the proper time for after-dinner calls, the proper liquids to serve the guests, the gardenia in the lapel, etc). And yet none of these details seemed frivolous, either. They all contributed to the world of the novel.
Anyway, hopefully I'll finish Ethan Frome soon. I'll probably post more excerpts from it too.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
A year later
How you always loved having dinner with us, how your favorite place to eat was Evergreen.
How you'd always be so happy when we ate lots of fish and oysters and lamb chops.
How you looked when I visited you with grams and gramps, how you wanted us to stay longer. How I looked back at you and promised myself that I'd go visit you more often, that I'd try to go on walks with you, and even if you couldn't walk I told myself I could push you around in your wheelchair in the park. How I regret this never happened.
How you had told me not to be too anxious about missing a year of school. How you said comfortingly that it was okay. How you looked like you had wanted to say more.
How we got lost when I tried to drive you home, and I felt so bad, but then later you confessed that you actually hadn't known what directions you were giving me, and that you had made them up along the way...how you had laughed sheepishly when you told me this. A youthful laugh.
How your hands were never cold or hot -- always just mild. And so soft.
How you always carried around a small towel, not a handkerchief but a towel, to pat your forehead with.
How you told stories of your maid being too sassy and talking back.
How you were so proud of Wah Wah's drawing for you, how you had taped it up on your living room wall. How I realized then that I didn't even know your birthday. And you didn't know ours.
How you always looked at us with this curious happiness. You only ever wanted us to be there in front of you, to sit down and eat and pei nee for as long as we could.
It's not as if you knew everything about us; our relationship with you was more distant, less intimate than I'd wished for; sometimes I used to wonder who we were to you -- just another set of grandchildren amongst many? But in the later years I saw more and more that you truly wanted to be near us. You just didn't always know how, but you tried.
It's been a year now and I wish I could have seen you before you passed. Wish I could see you now to tell you that I do think about you and love you. I hurt now in a way that makes me sad. And even though I don't really understand it or know where it's coming from, or what to do with it, I know that it's better to celebrate your life.
I miss you, Grandma.
How you'd always be so happy when we ate lots of fish and oysters and lamb chops.
How you looked when I visited you with grams and gramps, how you wanted us to stay longer. How I looked back at you and promised myself that I'd go visit you more often, that I'd try to go on walks with you, and even if you couldn't walk I told myself I could push you around in your wheelchair in the park. How I regret this never happened.
How you had told me not to be too anxious about missing a year of school. How you said comfortingly that it was okay. How you looked like you had wanted to say more.
How we got lost when I tried to drive you home, and I felt so bad, but then later you confessed that you actually hadn't known what directions you were giving me, and that you had made them up along the way...how you had laughed sheepishly when you told me this. A youthful laugh.
How your hands were never cold or hot -- always just mild. And so soft.
How you always carried around a small towel, not a handkerchief but a towel, to pat your forehead with.
How you told stories of your maid being too sassy and talking back.
How you were so proud of Wah Wah's drawing for you, how you had taped it up on your living room wall. How I realized then that I didn't even know your birthday. And you didn't know ours.
How you always looked at us with this curious happiness. You only ever wanted us to be there in front of you, to sit down and eat and pei nee for as long as we could.
It's not as if you knew everything about us; our relationship with you was more distant, less intimate than I'd wished for; sometimes I used to wonder who we were to you -- just another set of grandchildren amongst many? But in the later years I saw more and more that you truly wanted to be near us. You just didn't always know how, but you tried.
It's been a year now and I wish I could have seen you before you passed. Wish I could see you now to tell you that I do think about you and love you. I hurt now in a way that makes me sad. And even though I don't really understand it or know where it's coming from, or what to do with it, I know that it's better to celebrate your life.
I miss you, Grandma.
Why do they sing like this?
Was watching a Taiwanese show with my grandparents in our cozy backyard cabin. Some dude was singing a Bon Jovi song and was, well, obviously suffering the high notes. Then a lady singer sang something sad. Followed by a stream of happy-in-love songs. But everyone on stage had the same pained expression. Guess they were really feeling it...
Gramps found it most amusing. He said, Why do people nowadays sing as if they're yao ss bu hwuh? Like they're soooo sad, so so sad. Like this:
He had a lot of fun pulling this face through out the remainder of the show while emitting some morose notes.
Hahaha. So 38.
Gramps found it most amusing. He said, Why do people nowadays sing as if they're yao ss bu hwuh? Like they're soooo sad, so so sad. Like this:
He had a lot of fun pulling this face through out the remainder of the show while emitting some morose notes.
Hahaha. So 38.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Without a Fanny
Fans left us. Life is a little less glorious. Oh pew :'(
Click on the photo for an enlargement of this fanny face.
Click on the photo for an enlargement of this fanny face.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Short exchange
I'm upstairs in bed. My mom's downstairs at the dining area. I decided to gchat with her. I got shut down by her shortly after.
me: hi mom
Amy: dear shiao mei
me: :)
Amy: i have some problem with my solar fire program
bye
Monday, January 3, 2011
I am going to start
-combing my hair
-assuming better posture
-wearing leggings to bed; they don't scrunch up my legs like pj pants do
-to keep a pet bamboo
-to stop swallowing tangerine seeds
-to remember that i have eyebrows (that need regular grooming)
-to fall back in love with dried plums
-and mascara.
-assuming better posture
-wearing leggings to bed; they don't scrunch up my legs like pj pants do
-to keep a pet bamboo
-to stop swallowing tangerine seeds
-to remember that i have eyebrows (that need regular grooming)
-to fall back in love with dried plums
-and mascara.
Death
is not to be feared. As long as we are alive, we are not dead. And when we are dead, we won't be continuing our experience -- the body and soul separate. All human action emanates from avoidance of pain or pursuit of pleasure... after we're gone, neither will be necessary.
It wasn't painful before birth, so why will it be painful after death?
There is nothing bad about not existing.
Maybe that's why my grandpa is fearless. Maybe that's why he says heaven is on earth. With nothing to dread after.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Wanna split a watermelon cake?
 |
| Cute sponge cake with chocolate seeds! and a funny little spoon to boot. |
Not needing, but wanting is stronger
"Even though I'll never need her, even though she's only giving me pain, I'll be on my knees to feed her, spend a day to make her smile again.
As the world is soft around her, leaving me with nothing to disdain.
Even though I'm not her minder, I am on my feet to find her, to make sure that she is safe and sound. I am on my feet to find her, to make sure that she is safe from harm."
-Kings of Convenience, Winning a Battle, Losing the War
As the world is soft around her, leaving me with nothing to disdain.
Even though I'm not her minder, I am on my feet to find her, to make sure that she is safe and sound. I am on my feet to find her, to make sure that she is safe from harm."
-Kings of Convenience, Winning a Battle, Losing the War
You would think
I don't really drink Kool-Aid but if I did, I'd probably go with grape, or watermelon if they have it. The most overrated thing in my opinion is designer nail polish. I don't believe that being in love necessarily makes you gain weight, in fact I suppose it might even make you lose some. I have lived in this house since second grade. I like my peanut butter creamy, not crunchy. The first thing I wash in the shower is my hair, and I usually wash it twice. Would I kiss the last person I kissed again? Yes. I rarely ever plan outfits. I am feeling very warm right now under a fluffy down comforter, an oversized sweater, a blue long sleeve and cotton tee, with three pillows propping my back and a navy scarf around my neck. The closest thing to me that's red is my candy-stained tongue. The last dream I remember having was last night, when I was invisible to everyone save a little boy who befriended me. I am craving nothing right now. When I say cabbage, you think soup. My best friend is with his grandparents in Indiana right now, probably home from celebrating the new year with his uncle's family. The last question I asked was, Have you watched Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs and How to Train a Dragon? I don't think I'm sarcastic. The most recent thing I bought was a backpack. I last crawled through a window when I was in Kenting, and a friend and I wanted to stay at a hotel for one extra night but didn't have the funds, so I crawled through an unoccupied hotel room window from a neighboring rooftop and got inside. It was successful. We weren't busted.
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